


Disintegrate

by edema_ruh



Series: Delivered from the Blast [7]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Anger, Angst, Blackmail, Blood, Crime Fighting, Guilt, Homophobic Slurs, Hurt/Comfort, Just to be safe, Mind Control, Mind Reader Enjolras, Revenge, Self-Sacrifice, Superheroes, Superpowers, Worry, and it describes torture, i'll put a little ~ before the scene where they mention it, jump the second part?, mental manipulation, mentions of torture, not in a graphic way but it's mentioned, so if that triggers you maybe you should idk, this is a bit darker than the others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 16:24:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6477454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edema_ruh/pseuds/edema_ruh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire is captured by the Patron-Minette, and Enjolras has a choice to make.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disintegrate

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe you should read the tags first?

An entire day passed and Grantaire didn’t return. 

At first, Enjolras was worried. He anxiously waited for three hours before calling Grantaire, not wanting to look pushy. When the man didn’t answer, he tried again. And again. And again. He even texted Grantaire a few times. 

He knew Grantaire would be mad if Enjolras looked for his mind and read it, so he decided against it. Instead, after 12 hours of Grantaire's vanishing, Enjolras brought the subject up to Combeferre, who frowned, sharing his friend's worry. Calling Bossuet and Courfeyrac, the four of them took Combeferre's car and decided to go looking for Grantaire. 

The problem was, Enjolras had no idea where Grantaire had been staying, and neither did Joly or Bossuet. The cynic only said he had been staying with some friends, but never specified where. Enjolras mentally kicked himself for not asking, as he dialed Grantaire's number for the 23rd time. 

There was nothing wrong with the road as they passed it – Enjolras had feared he'd find Grantaire's car destroyed and his dead body inside - , and as they reached the city they decided to spread, looking for Grantaire on different locations. Bossuet even took them to the houses of the few other friends he knew Grantaire had, but none of them had seen the man in over a month. 

So apparently Grantaire had been lying when he said he was staying with friends. 

Enjolras tried not to jump to conclusions, but evidences were screaming at his face. Grantaire reappeared after a month just because Combeferre called, kissed Enjolras and promised to come back, then disappeared again. He said he had been staying with friends when in fact, he hadn't. It all had probably been a lie. A sick way to get revenge, to hurt Enjolras as Enjolras had hurt him. If that was the case, Enjolras wasn’t sure he'd be able to forgive him. 

No. Grantaire wasn’t like that. He would never do such a cruel, heartless thing. 

Enjolras didn’t usually feel this insecure. Sooner or later, he would have to admit that killing Claquesous affected him more than he would like. 

Something must have happened to Grantaire, and Enjolras' heart tightened inside his chest thinking of the man being shot like Jehan, or being captured, or being _dead_. And it would all be Enjolras' fault. Again. He felt nauseous, looking outside the window and trying not to think of Grantaire's dead, cold body. It didn’t work. 

"Hey, don't worry", Combeferre told him, looking at him through the rearview mirror. "We'll find him". 

Enjolras didn’t reply, still looking through the car's window as they returned to the manor. Courfeyrac took his hand into his and squeezed it gently, as if to let Enjolras know he was there for him. 

They were barely a kilometer away from the mansion when something shining in the road called Enjolras' attention. 

"Hey, Ferre", he said, propping himself up on the backseat. "Pull over". 

"What?", Combeferre asked, confused. 

"Pull over, I think I saw something". 

Combeferre did as Enjolras said, and the leader hopped off the car, running back to the place where he saw the shining light without waiting for his friends. As he approached the scene, his blood went cold. There was glass scattered all over the asphalt. 

"Holy shit", said Bossuet, appearing behind Enjolras in less than a second. "Is that... blood?" 

Enjolras turned his head to see where Bossuet was pointing at, and felt his blood drop to his stomach when he saw the red stain on the road. It was definetly blood. 

"Where is the car?", Combeferre frowned, looking around and seeing nothing. "The glass is probably from the car, but I don’t see it". 

"Hang on", Bossuet said, and ran away from them like a flash. He was back two seconds later. "Over there", he pointed, signaling to some trees at the back of the road. "Someone must have put it there to keep it away from the view. Someone strong as fuck". 

"Gueulemer", Enjolras snarled, walking over to where Bossuet directed. "How did we not see it before?" 

"There wasn’t much light when we left the manor", Combeferre explained, following Enjolras close. They arrived at the car, which was barely a car anymore. The vehicle was all smashed and wrecked, with smears of blood all over it. Enjolras was staring at it with a stoic face, mind rushing to think of a million possibilities of what could have happened. 

"Now we know they captured him", Courfeyrac said. "But how do we find him?" 

"Keep trying to call him, Enjolras", Combeferre said with a weird voice. "If they have him, they'll contact us. It's not him they want". 

Enjolras fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed Grantaire's number again. There was no response. 

Enjolras could no longer hold his anger inside him. He let out an animalistic scream, kicking the metallic mess that used to be a car with force and throwing his phone against the floor. Bossuet managed to catch it before it was destroyed, but Enjolras barely noticed it as he kept kicking Grantaire's car. He didn’t care if he looked like a children throwing a tantrum, he was tired of seeing the people he loved get hurt because of him. 

"Alright, calm down", Courfeyrac said, holding Enjolras' shoulders and pulling the kicking man away from Grantaire's car. "Calm down, Enjolras. We'll find him, ok? I promise". Courfeyrac pulled a struggling Enjolras into a hug, rubbing a soothing hand on the man's back until he stopped trying to wriggle himself away from the embrace. 

"We should go back to the camp house", Combeferre said. "There's nothing we can do here". 

With a nod from Bossuet and from Courfeyrac, who was still hugging a now sobbing Enjolras, they all got to their feet and walked back to their car. 

As they got to the camp house, Bossuet hugged and comforted a disappointed Joly while Combeferre gave the rest of the Amis the news about the car on the road. They all listened with horrified and worried faces, and Jehan, despite still being weak, held Enjolras' hand as firmly as he could. Enjolras sat down on the couch, ignoring the mass of friends around him, and dialed Grantaire's number again. Before he could hit the call button, his phone vibrated on his hand, an incoming call being received. 

It was from Grantaire's number. 

"Guys!", Enjolras called, heart rate increasing. "It's Grantaire! I'm receiving a call from him". 

The Amis agglomerated themselves behind Enjolras, waiting anxiously as he accepted the call and put it on speaker. 

"Grantaire, are you ok? Where are you, we found your-" 

"Hi there, Enjolras", a female voice greeted and Enjolras immediately stopped talking, breath hitching in his throat. "How are you?" 

"What have you done to him?", Enjolras growled, anger and fear mixing and growing even more inside him. Beside him, Jehan covered his mouth with his hands, and the whole group took a harsh intake of breath. 

"Very straightforward, isn't he?" The woman told someone, giggling. "Alright love, here's the deal. We have something _you_ want, you have something _we_ want. Turn yourself in and we let loverboy return home safe and sound". 

"And if I don’t?" Enjolras asked through gritted teeth. The woman laughed, sounding more like a cackle. 

"Dear boy, we know where you live. Did you really think we wouldn’t find out about this huge, fancy camp house you have? I thought you had already learned not to underestimate us. If you don't turn yourself in in... 24 hours, we'll break into your house and take you by force, and we'll make sure Taire-Bear dies in agony in front of your very eyes. How does that sound?", Madame Thénardier asked, making the proposal sound like the opportunity of a life time. He saw Éponine curl her fingers into fists. 

"Where shall I go?", Enjolras asked, feeling angrier than he remembered ever feeling. To think that he had thought, even for a second, that Grantaire had left him on purpose. To think that he had thought the worst of the man, when in fact he was being held captive _because of_ _Enjolras_ _._ Enjolras felt sick. 

"Oh, don’t worry, I'll text you an address and a time. I don’t think it's necessary to say that you're to come _alone_ , otherwise poor Grantaire's neck is going to find a very _sharp, messy_ friend". 

"Let me speak to him", Enjolras said, throat constricted, making it sounding more like an order. Madame Thénardier laughed loudly again. 

"Of course, dear", she said, and there was a shuffling sound on the line. There was the sound of high heels clicking on the floor followed by a groan and the distance sound of her saying something unintelligible. Then Madame Thénardier made a fake frustrated noise. "Aw, I'm sorry. He doesn’t look like he's in for much conversation. I'll make sure to send you some cute pictures, though. See you later, Enjolras!" 

There was a clacking sound and the line went dead. 

All the Amis were silent, horrified, and Enjolras was pretty sure he could hear Joly sobbing. At some point during the call Combeferre placed a comforting hand on Enjolras' shoulder, but now it seemed to be frozen on the spot as he didn’t dare to move or speak, instead studying Enjolras' face with caution. Enjolras startled when his phone dinged several times with new messages. They were all from Grantaire's number. 

"Are you sure you want to open this?", Combeferre asked as Enjolras' thumb hovered above the phone screen. Jehan was staring at him with tears on his wide eyes. 

"I need to", Enjolras muttered. "I need to see what they've done to him". 

Enjolras opened the new messages and took in a harsh intake of breath. 

~ 

 

The first image showed Grantaire, tied up tightly on a chair and head fallen forwards, dark curls covering his face from view. Enjolras could see blood smeared on his naked chest, and most of it wasn’t dry. 

The second image showed Grantaire's face. Someone had pulled his head back by the hair to expose it to the camera. Grantaire's left eye was swollen shut, there was a deep gash on his brow covered by a crust of dried blood, which covered most of the left side of his face, and there were a thousand of small cuts on the right side, probably caused by the broken glass. There was a cut on his lower lip and blood gushing from his nose. Tears pooled on Enjolras' eyes. 

The next message was not an image, but a video. With a trembling hand, Enjolras pressed open. He couldn’t tell whether his friends were still standing behind him or not, all he could think of or see was the screen in front of his eyes. 

In the video, there was a man – Babet, Enjolras recognized – beside Grantaire, pulling his head back harshly by his hair. He slapped Grantaire on the face three times before the injured man stirred, opening an unfocused eye and looking around in confusion. 

"Good morning, sleeping beauty", Babet mocked. "Say hi to your boyfriend". 

He turned Grantaire's head to force the man to look directly into the camera. Whoever was filming zoomed in to Grantaire's face, showing the bruises and blood sadistically.  

"'Jolras, don' do an'thing", Grantaire slurred, and Babet punched him in the nose, the impact making Grantaire's head connect with the wall behind him with a sharp thud. The man groaned loudly. 

"See, Enjolras, you used your telepathic powers to kill my friend Claquesous", Babet said, pointing at the camera with a bloodied finger. "Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t return the courtesy and kill this little bitch right here, right now, the same way you killed my friend". 

Grantaire laughed at this, head fallen, blood and spit leaving his mouth. 

"As if you coul' kill me with your shit pow'rs", Grantaire slurred. "You're no' ev'n a prop'r telepath". Babet turned around and punched him on the stomach, earning a muffled "oof" from Grantaire. 

"What was that?" Babet asked as Grantaire's head fell forward again. "Didn’t hear you. Can you repeat?" 

Grantaire spat on the floor before looking up at the man. 

"I sa'd you ain't a prop'r telepath an' your pow'rs are _shit_ ", Grantaire elaborated. Enjolras cringed when Babet punched his stomach again, this time twice. There was blood dripping from Grantaire's closed lips. 

"Do you ever shut up?" Babet asked, panting. The criminal walked away from the screen range and came back with a dirty rag, forcing it into Grantaire's mouth and tying it around his head, gagging him. He pulled Grantaire by the hair again, exposing his face to the camera once more. 

"You see, Enjolras", Babet said, spitting on the floor. "I'm getting really tired of your boyfriend. Maybe you should hurry up and show up soon, before I give in and show this fag here what _real pain is_ ". 

He let go of Grantaire's hair harshly, practically pushing his head forwards, and the camera recording was set down, now only filming a dirty floor and two pairs of feet. Then suddenly, there was the sound of loud groans of pain that evolved into muffled screams, and the heartbreaking sound continued for a few seconds before the video ended. 

There was only two more messages left. An address, and a time. 

~ 

 

Enjolras set down his phone, feeling dizzy and disoriented. Suddenly Combeferre was on his line of sight, talking to him, but Enjolras couldn’t hear what his friend was saying. It was as if his ears had turned into cotton. There was a hand on his, and arms around him, picking him up bridal style, but his mind couldn’t concentrate on where they were taking him. All he could think of was the way Grantaire looked like, sounded like. He was suffering because of Enjolras. 

When the sense of hearing finally returned to him Enjolras hear Joly saying something about him being in shock. As he looked around, he found himself lying on one of the lab's beds. He propped himself up with his elbows, but Joly's firm doctor hand pushed him back down into the mattress. 

"No", that was all he said, before walking away again, looking for something. He reappeared a few seconds later. "You need to rest, no getting up". 

"I need to go", Enjolras said, sitting on the mattress. "I won't leave him there". 

"If you turn yourself in, you'll die", Joly said with a small voice, not looking at Enjolras. 

"So I'm supposed to just let Grantaire die instead?" Enjolras retorted, indignant. 

"This isn't the way to act", Joly said, fiddling with random medical equipment and still refusing to look Enjolras in the eyes. 

"He's being _tortured_ , I'm not going to sit here and wait-" 

"You think I'm not _dying_ to go there and get him back, too?", Joly interrupted Enjolras, finally turning to face him. "Grantaire is my best friend and I just had to witness him being tortured, bleeding out in front of my very eyes! You think I'm not _angry_ and _desperate_ to save him? But you are my friend, too, and if you turn yourself in, not only will you die, but that woman will have your powers and god knows what she'll do with that!" 

"Joly, I-" 

"No!", Joly yelled. "Get back on the goddamn mattress or I'll sedate you so heavily you'll only wake up next year!" 

Enjolras was nearly fuming with anger, but obeyed and lied back down in the mattress. 

"If you even think of getting out of this lab I'll put you inside one of the super cells and never let you out", Joly threatened. 

"They're ready?" Enjolras frowned. 

"Barely, there are only a few adjustments left. Also, I should probably have told you this earlier, but me and Azelma are developing a serum that can theoretically eliminate superhuman abilities. We haven't tested it yet, but I'm positive this will work; like the cells, it's almost ready. Which is why I'm telling you, wait until we have a proper plan to rescue Grantaire". 

"But she gave me 24 hours, Joly", Enjolras said. 

Joly sighed deeply, pushing his hands inside his coat pockets to stop Enjolras from seeing how much they were trembling. 

"Look, Enjolras, I'm not going to let you get yourself murdered", Joly said. "Here, take these", he handed Enjolras a bunch of papers. "These are theories me and Combeferre have been developing about our abilities. Distract yourself, rest, do whatever you want as long as you stay here, inside this manor. Ok? I gotta go check on Jehan, but I'll be right back". Joly then left the lab, leaving Enjolras alone in the cold, white room. 

Enjolras knew his friend was right, but still, just the thought of leaving Grantaire alone, suffering on that place, helpless, was enough to make him feel nauseous. He took a quick look on the papers Joly handed him, but was too absentminded to properly read them. Until a title called his attention. 

_Superhuman_ _speed and time travel._  

It was a very well elaborated text written by Combeferre and talking about how Bossuet's ability would allow him to go back in time should he achieve a required velocity. After reading the article, Enjolras had the most stupid and yet _brilliant_ idea he had in his life. 

He could only hope his friends would forgive him for doing this. 

- 

Enjolras went back to his room, searching for paper and pen to write a letter. After doing so, he walked over to Combeferre's room and placed the paper on his friend's pillow, knowing there was no way Combeferre wouldn’t see that. 

He then went down the stairs, heading to the front door. Joly, who was exiting the kitchen, spotted him and marched over to Enjolras, furious. 

"Enjolras, didn't I tell you to stay in the house? Where do you think you're going?" 

Enjolras sent his friend a sad look, feeling his heart tighten in his chest. He stepped ahead and embraced Joly in a tight hug, which took the confused doctor some time to return. 

"Go to sleep", Enjolras whispered in Joly's ear, and the man's eyes instantly rolled to the back of his head. Enjolras held Joly's sleeping form with no difficulty, placing him carefully on the couch. 

Enjolras then proceeded to find all of his friends' minds on the manor, giving them the exact same order. Once he was sure they were all unconscious and, therefore, unable to stop him, Enjolras opened the door of the manor, giving the inside of the house a last, sad look before leaving it forever. 

- 

Grantaire was on the limbo between the dark comfort unconsciousness brought him and the gut wrenching pain that consciousness provided him. There was so much pain everywhere that he couldn’t be sure where it even started. He was so confused that it was probably why it took him so long to acknowledge Enjolras' voice inside his head. 

_I'm coming for you_ , Enjolras reassured. 

"Don't", Grantaire groaned out loud, voice muffled by the gag. "They'll kill you". 

_You'll be ok. Rest_ , Enjolras comforted. 

"No, Enj'ras, don' do this", Grantaire basically sobbed. There was a slap on his face. 

"Who are you talking to?" Gueulemer asked. 

Grantaire looked up at the crook's face with his good eye, not saying a word. The floor below him trembled. Gueulemer laughed mockingly. 

"Remember what happens if you use your powers, dipshit", Babet told him from somewhere to his left. "You'll die and we'll kill all your friends instead of only Enjolras. There are tons of concrete above your head". 

_Don_ _'t do anything, R. I'll get you out of this_ , Enjolras told him. 

_Enjolras_ _,_ ** _don’t_** _,_ Grantaire thought, as loud as he could. 

_Just know that I love you, okay? And I_ _'m sorry for all the times I hurt you. I_ _love you,_ Enjolras said. 

_Enjolras_ _, please, don’t do this, you'll_ ** _die_** , Grantaire begged. 

There was a clacking sound on the door to Grantaire's right and the sound of high heels. More footsteps followed Madame Thénardied inside the room, and then the sound of a body falling in front of Grantaire. When he dared to open his not-swollen eye, he saw Enjolras kneeling in front of him. 

Grantaire struggled against his restraints, trying to free himself from his bonds. Enjolras stared up at him from where he was kneeling, a bruise already blossoming on his cheek. 

"Enjolras!", Grantaire was screaming, gag muffling his voice. " _Enjolras_!" 

_Calm down,_ Enjolras told him mentally. _It's going to be ok. You'll be ok._  

"Awn, aren't they just sweet?" Madame Thénardier mocked. 

"Cut him loose", Monsieur Thénardier ordered Babet, gesturing to Grantaire with his head. 

Babet pulled out a pocket knife and cut Grantaire's bonds off, taking the now bloodied gag away from his mouth too. The cynic wasted no time, immediately head-butting Babet, who fell back on his arse, and throwing himself against M. Thénardier. Madame Thénardied clicked her tongue and made a hand gesture towards Grantaire, and suddenly there were three Montparnasses restraining him, pulling him away from the man. 

"Let him go", Enjolras ordered. "You have me. You have what you want". 

Madame Thénardied pouted ironically. 

"You're right", she said, caressing Enjolras' cheek. "But he hasn’t learned his lesson yet". 

The three Montparnasses threw Grantaire on the floor and started to kick him, Babet joining in, until Grantaire was a whimpering mess curling on the floor. Enjolras had tears on his eyes. 

Before Enjolras could even think about mentally manipulating the people on the room, Madame Thénardier's hands were on his face, and he felt the pain of having his life force sucked away. 

"No", Grantaire muttered weakly, coughing up blood. "No, no". He tried to crawl towards Enjolras, but was too injured to do so. 

Grantaire was too weak to protect himself and Enjolras from the aftermath of using his powers, and he wasn’t even sure he could control it properly in the state he was in. He tried to explode Madame Thénardier's head like his friends said he could, but nothing happened. He was useless. Enjolras was dying in front of his eyes and there was nothing he could do. 

"No, please" Grantaire sobbed. He managed to crawl close enough to take Enjolras' hand in his. The leader had just enough energy to look Grantaire in the eyes. 

_I'm sorry_ , Enjolras told him mentally, voice so weak it was barely a whisper. _I love you_. 

Then Enjolras' eyes rolled to the back of his head and his voice inside Grantaire's mind was gone. 

Grantaire was openly sobbing now, tears welling on his good eye and blurring his vision. Madame Thénardier let go of Enjolras' face, and the blonde's body fell back, colliding harshly with the floor and lying there, limply. Grantaire finished crawling and let himself fall above Enjolras, holding and hugging him as best as he could while he still sobbed. 

"Shouldn’t we kill him too?", Gueulemer asked. 

"Nah. He's useless against us", Madame Thénardier replied, pushing Grantaire away from Enjolras' body with her foot. Grantaire fell on his back, beside Enjolras, still sobbing. "And besides, he and his friends are going to die anyways. Damn, I always knew I was good at stealing, but this is something _else_! I can hear all your thoughts, that's awesome". 

"What do we do, then?", Babet asked. 

"Well?" Madame Thénardier said, as if it was obvious. "Get rid of him and of the body. Throw them on the gutter or something, I don’t care. Now, love", she said, caressing M. Thénardier's face. "Why don’t we go back to the city and see what these powers can get us for now?" 

Gueulemer picked Grantaire up, throwing him over his shoulder, and grabbed Enjolras by the ankle, dragging his body behind him as if he was a sack of potatos. Grantaire sobbed harder at this, punching Gueulemer's back with all the strength he had left in his body. Gueulemer ignored him, going up the stairs to the first floor. Enjolras' head collided harshly with each step as Gueulemer went up, making Grantaire cry desperately. 

"Stop this!", Grantaire yelled. "You're hurting him, just _stop it!_ " 

Gueulemer finally got to the first floor, still dragging Enjolras' limp body behind him, and opened the back door of the building, throwing Grantaire out as if he was a trash bag. He did the same with Enjolras, throwing his body above Grantaire's and then he threw a phone on the floor beside them. It was Grantaire's. Gueulemer walked back into the building, closing the door behind him with a loud clack and and leaving Grantaire alone in a dirty ally, stuck beneath Enjolras.  

He tried to crawl away from Enjolras and to push his body from where it was crushing Grantaire, but he was completely limp and Grantaire had no strength left in his body. He sobbed, pulling Enjolras closer instead. 

Enjolras' face was as pale as a candle, and his lips, which were usually of a rich cherry color, were as white as a sheet of paper, and yet he was still as beautiful as ever, even though he looked exactly like marble. Grantaire regretted ever comparing the man to a marble statue. His mouth was slightly ajar, probably due to the impact of his head against the stairs, and the bruise blooming on his cheekbone was the only color on his face whatsoever. His arms were spread uselessly beside him and Grantaire did a last effort to sit himself up against the wall, his whole body aching terribly.  

Only now Grantaire realized how badly he probably needed medical attention. He had been involved in a car accident, hit his head badly, and had been through a lot of pain inducing experiments thrown by the Patron-Minette. He was sure at least two of his ribs were broken, there was definitely something wrong with his right knee, he was dizzy and nauseous and the blood wouldn’t stop filling his mouth. 

But none of that mattered. Enjolras was dead in his arms. 

Grantaire barely had the strength to reach for his phone on the floor, and dialed Joly's number on the cracked screen with trembling, bloodied fingers. He was still sobbing. 

He couldn’t tell whether Joly picked up the phone or not, because the device dropped from Grantaire's shaking hand and fell to the floor with a clacking sound. Grantaire could only make sure that his arms were around Enjolras, holding his body in place, shaking hand resting above Enjolras' still chest, as his vision began to darken and his eyelids dropped close and he passed out from pain and exhaustion. 

**Author's Note:**

> Wowie! So here we are.  
> I'll let you know this isn't a deathfic. So yeah. Don't worry ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
> Maybe it's reckless of me to keep updating this fanfic so quickly, but I have big ideas for this story and I just really enjoy writing it. Well, I hope you liked it ^_^  
> Kudos and comments make me happy and I'm always open to constructive criticism! Thank you so much for reading ♥  
> You can always find me on edema--ruh.tumblr.com


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